Thursday, March 12, 2009

Grace is a Painted Woman: Unfolding Imagination

Why do we fold up our imaginations when we get older? This question (my paraphrase) sparked Jeffrey Overstreet to write a novel about characters who fold their imaginations and put them away. I'm guessing it was the safe thing to do in that fantasy world. I'm guessing too that Overstreet probably uncovers the hidden dangers of squelching an ability to see the fantastical. (Sorry, Jeffrey, I haven't read the book, but it sounds really cool.)

Today I happened upon a brave poem that must have sprung from an open imagination. Here's the beginning...

I found gracepainting her toe-nailsalong a street filled with graves.

She wore a white-lace hatand a dress to match,its bottom corners stained with grass.

I love that. Grace as a painted woman in white lace. How unusual. Very imaginative. This got me thinking about our next writing project. Why not open our imaginations, with the following prompt as a start? (Offerings due by next Thursday evening, March 19, for possible feature and definite links at High Calling Blogs).

I found my soul...

What did it look like? Was it animal, vegetable, mineral? Where was it sitting, standing, dancing? What else was it doing, or what was being done to it? A quick example (quick, not sophisticated, just for illustration purposes : )

I found my soulin the oven, five daysold, almost empty butfor a few crusty flakesand stray apples spillingover the side of a glasspie plate, threatening stainlesssteel racks and self-cleaning walls with caramelized sugar.

I made my soul from scraps of woolto colour me and keep me warm.I tangled them and tatted themand plaited them with fantasy,and when I finished, it was bright,but far too much a mess, and soI put the rainbow cloak asideand picked up something new.

I was about to try to go back to sleep after waking too early and eating a bit, but my brain was too busy with your prompt. So, instead I got up and wrote. My image will hardly be the most imaginative, but I did find it to ring true somehow. Thanks for the inspiration.

While listening to the new U2 today it struck me that they did your challenge too. excerpt from "Breathe""...walk outinto a sun burned streetsing your heart outsing your heart outI found graceinside a soundI found grace it's all I foundand I can breathebreathe, now..."

I'm just seeing this post- how did I miss it? Thank you so... (I've been in New Orleans visiting graveyards and witnessing beauty and hope, souls dressed in brilliant costumes of bead and feather, playing tuba, dancing in doorways colored purple, closing in on the distances between...)